Full Power
by Wicked R
Summary: Post 8.07-the Naomi situation gets dealt with quickly given that Dean is too focussed on Cas not to notice something is off.
1. Chapter 1

Title:

Full Power

Disclaimer/note: I don't own anything to do with Supernatural, so much so I don't even watch much more than Castiel's episodes. So pardon my ignorance and the mistakes I may make due to my relative unfamiliarity with this universe.

Set/Summary: Post 8.07-Naomi doesn't have a chance with Dean's attention and concern still focussed on Castiel, driven by his guilt over leaving the angel in purgatory despite his insistence that it was due punishment.

Pairing: Destiel

Genre: Hurt/Comfort you glorious!

Rating: PG-13.

Dean killed the engine in the parking lot of the two storey motel, somewhat more upmarket than they normally settled for, but he decided they needed a bigger room so they had space for Cas. He turned round in his seat to find that Castiel still looked asleep, making the hunter sigh with worry, "he's sleeping Sam. Why is he sleeping? And he sometimes spaces out even when he's not asleep!"

"You said yourself that he collapsed when rescuing Kevin and half the tablet. Healing that finger took it out of him too."

"Yeah, well, minuscule exploits like that should not exhaust him!" Dean despaired.

"We know he's not at full power, at first he couldn't even contact us. But he's getting stronger since getting back from purgatory," Sam placated.

Dean shook his head nevertheless, unappeased, "the whole thing doesn't make sense. He told me he didn't even want to escape purgatory and that he deserved being there. He didn't want to leave and he didn't leave! And now that he's back for some mysterious reason, he's weaker than I've seen him in there!"

"It's not like it's the first time he's mysteriously back from the dead."

"He wasn't dead Sam, and neither was I. We were simply trapped," Dean accentuated, still feeling stung that his brother never looked for them.

Sam winced, but let the subject lie, "I concede that we should try to find out how he got out if possible, but it is very likely that since you came back, Cas had been either injured or worn out fighting endlessly in that place. I would make some sense if he needed time to recover for once."

"Okay, okay, angel physician know-it-all, go get us a room," Dean grumbled, stepping out of the vehicle at the same time as Sam to gather their duffels and wake up the sleeping angel. As Cas' head was leaning on the back door on Dean's side, he deemed it more appropriate to go round and climb into the back seat from the other side, doing a little dance with Sam as they tried to get out of each other's ways, heading in opposite directions. A grunt and a bitch-jerk exchange later, the older Winchester slid next to Cas and reached out a hand to squeeze the angel's shoulder lightly, like he did in purgatory when it was his turn to act as sentinel on the very rare occasion Benny and Cas needed some not-necessarily-sleep, but rest at the same time. "Cas. Sam's getting us some beds in here. Wake up man."

Castiel groaned weekly, reminding Dean once again of their times in purgatory when vampire or hunter helped the angel up from the ground after what Dean could only describe as Castiel letting himself being beaten up by Leviathan and monsters alike. Sleepy, hazy blues blinked at him in the weak light of the parking lot, never focusing on him, but gazing somewhere in between the two front seats. Given all the drowsiness in his expression, Castiel's strong, monotone voice startled him. "Aye, Major General," the angel barked out in his deepest baritone and straightened his back, "right away, sister."

Dean took one moment reserved for bewilderment before strengthening his grip on the angel's shoulder and patted his cheek, "earth to Castiel? It would be nice if you were actually awake when you had your eyes open!"

Castiel blinked a couple more times, turning his head slowly in his friend's direction, "uuhh..Dean?"

"The one and only," Dean rolled his eyes, sighing, "what was that about? Bad soldier dreams?"

"There are 169,369 people just in the U.S. alone with the first name Dean. And soldiers are not usually good or bad, as they are not allowed to judge or act on free will, they only follow orders. These orders could be in theory considered good or bad, but.."

"Do shut up Cas, will ye if you don't want to answer questions properly. Pop your feathers outside and carry Sam's duffel, will you? I've got enough bags and laptops and whatnot to carry," he left to open the trunk and retrieve the items in question. Turning back with four different straps hanging off his shoulders, Dean found that his angel had been trying to follow his orders, having stumbled out the Chevy, but was leaning heavily on the door, with his forehead resting on his arm, his legs looking dangerously close to buckling all the same. "Cas!" The Winchester dropped all the bags, only marginally making sure the laptops were landing on the top of the dirty clothes pile for cushion, "will you tell me already what's wrong with you!"

"I'm experiencing weakness and vertigo," Cas mumbled, very thankful for the arms around him and the strong chest he could lean into.

"That's not what I mean and you know it!" Dean gave him a little angry shake, regretting it right away when pushing away the other man from himself he could see how pale the angel seemed under the street light.

"I..I'm not sure. It's like..it's like I don't know where I am sometimes.." Castiel trailed off, confused and wobbly.

"Sit down, sit back down!" Dean manoeuvred him onto the seat Castiel had previously occupied and knelt to place a hand on the angel's knee. "Talk to me Cas. You said you don't know how you came back. What's the last thing you remember from purgatory?"

Castiel made a gesture that was somewhat reminiscent of a human shrug, even if smaller and less pointed, "it's not of import."

"Would you just answer a question straight for once, featherass!" Dean raised his voice, anger overpowering concern.

Castiel's head snapped up, "I'm not the one always using elusive pop culture references, Dean," he tilted his head to look at his friend. It was a statement of fact, with no emotion attached bar for perhaps wonderment.

Dean was too relieved to see a clear gaze and comprehension in the angel's eyes for the first time since he woke him up and did not react adversely to the argument. He sighed and looked away to gather equanimity before asking again, "what was the last thing that happened to you in purgatory?"

"I'm not sure.." Castiel looked away, as if disturbed by the question. "I deserved to be there Dean. I was fighting the monsters at the best of my abilities because I did not want to die in there, not yet. I've had millennia to go in penance."

"So.." Dean tried to make sense of it all, "you died in there? Is that it? Was that the last thing that happened to you in purgatory?"

"I don't know.." The angel trailed off again, all the self-assurance characteristic of him in previous years missing from his countenance, "I had been severely injured and the wounds were festering..it's possible that I have died, but I don't understand why and who brings me back all the time! But I must have died and was brought back again, that's the only explanation I can come up with."

"I thought you could use your powers in purgatory, why were you not healing?" Dean's concern overpowered all his nauseating suspicions. "Could it be the same reason why you're not at full power now?"

"It's impossible," Castiel shook his head, "then...then I was a captive, the Leviathan have used spells to keep me bind up and weak."

"How long did that go on Cas!" Dean paled. It was one thing leaving Cas in purgatory and another leaving him as a prisoner of the Leviathan. "What did they do to you?" He grunted, feeling the urge to go back to that place again just to avenge the atrocities.

"I don't know…I don't remember," Cas rubbed the back of his hand to his forehead.

"Bullshit!" The hunter exclaimed, "I'm not buying that. You know just as well as I do that the sense of horror and desperation was so intense down there that it carved every moment and sensation into our brains for eternity! Who exactly and what did they do to you!"

"I doubt the details of my torture would be of particular use to you, Dean," Castiel looked at him questioningly.

"Damn it, damn it!" Dean had to refrain himself from fistpunching the closest thing as that happened to be his precious Impala's door. Why did Cas always insist on suffering alone?

"Dean, I believe there is no point to dwell on this now. Since I was brought back, I did become stronger and I have no reason to doubt that with proper respite I will again after this little setback."

"Ok, ok," Dean gave, glancing in the direction of the motel and concentrating on current practical matters, "do you think you can make it inside if you hang on to me or should we wait till Sam comes back?"

"I'm sure I can manage," Castiel pushed himself up, some of his old habitual confidence returning to his voice enough for Dean to trust him. The hunter hovered nevertheless, keeping a hand under his friend's arm the whole way, bags completely disregarded.

Tbc


	2. Chateau

Chapter 2: Château in Spain

Dean was on his back from his shower so he could finally crash when in the sharp light still emanating from the bathroom he noticed that something was off. Unlike other times Castiel crashed out into his regenerative beauty sleep, his head was moving slightly, the covers under him rumpled as if he had been trashing about. It made the hunter pause and tread his bare, tired feet into his friend's direction, "Cas?" He probed quietly. Not receiving any response made him move further forward while the sweat he thought to have seen glistening on the angel's brow made his hand reach out habitually to touch Castiel's forehead as if he would've been human. The temperature under his fingers seemed normal enough, Dean still wished he had taken his friend's suit coat off, not just the trench. He sighed, decided that was too late now, and made to step away, but then he heard Castiel moan and start to trash about again. "No, Cas, you've got to snap out of that," he whispered, his hand dropping back to squeeze the angel's shoulder.

Bleary blue eyes stared at him quick enough, but going by Castiel's shaking frame and his iron grip on Dean's arm as he was brought back from wherever his sleep altered state of consciousness took him, the angel was far-off from unaffected. "You're ok Cas," Dean tried to make him feel more comfortable, "you're with me. Here, on earth," he added, making sure Castiel in no way thought of purgatory no more.

Castiel eased his grip on Dean and he reeled forward, leaning on his elbow towards the side of the bed, body shaking, vision swimming, his soggy clothes sticking to his frame. The human lurched to catch the doubling up angel as it seemed like he might fall out of bed, not minding that Castiel looked as if he would throw up any time onto Dean's freshly clean, naked feet. "Cas. Cas, deep breaths," the hunter hung onto him, not surprised by the fierce bodily reaction to a presumably nightmare, he had experienced that himself often enough.

Slowly, the moan sounding noises that were supposed to be breaths turned into more controlled and deeper inhales and exhales as Castiel found his bearings and won the fight with his body for control. He sat up straight with his feet on the ground and pulled himself free of Dean's hold, "I feel a lot better now, thank you," he intonated evenly and took another deep breath with which he fixed his dishevelled appearance and dried his sweaty clothes.

"Cas, no. You shouldn't use your energy on that," Dean reproached, his hands intent on undoing the blue tie and pulling it off, "if you're too warm, for any reason, you should take some of your clothes off. How does that feel?" He unfastened the top button on Castiel's shirt as well for good measure.

"I'm not sure which would take more energy, moving and lifting my arms out of a coat or doing it mentally," the angel considered with a slight head tilt.

"If you're that tired, you definitely need to lie back down and sleep," Dean encouraged, manoeuvring Castiel back on the top of the bedcovers.

"Dean I..again, I'm not sure if fighting bodily reactions to nightmares would take more energy than just not sleeping at all," the angel contemplated, but had not resisted Dean's attempts to settle him into bed.

The hunter sighed, "no way you look that calm two minutes after a nightmare. It must take a lot of mojo so I doubt that on the long run not sleeping at all would turn out easier, you need to build your strength up. Maybe you should learn to deal with the bodily reactions the human way for a bit as well. Might not be as easy to do as taking your jacket off, but it might work."

"I could try that," Castiel nodded, "so what is the human way to deal with clawing knots in your stomach?" He placed his palm on the offending bit of his anatomy.

Dean's face turned from instructive to more concerned, "your stomach? Take this bottle of water, ok?" He grabbed one from the table, "a few mouthfuls should help settle that down. Always remember the measured breathing and concentrate on the logistics of the air going in and out to steer away from destructive thoughts and feelings. You can also rub it, like a massage you know, to make the muscles relax."

"I will do that. Thank you for your assistance in this matter Dean. I don't mean to keep you awake," Castiel raised the water bottle to his lips.

"Well, ok, but wake me up if you feel worse, alright?" The hunter padded towards his own bed.

"I hardly think that's necessary, but thank you for the offer." Castiel said sincerely.

"Just do it, Cas!" Dean grumbled, tired from their long day. He paused sitting on the edge on his bed, his covers half raised so he could slip under them, "do you really want me to worry about you and not get to sleep?"

"If that's what you want, then I will Dean," Castiel placated.

"Sure, whatever," Dean pulled the covers over his head, only half believing his friend.

Tbc


	3. Small Hours

Chapter 3: Small Hours

The sound of his name spoken in an insistent manner woke Dean. He startled to glare in the direction of Sam's voice, the fluorescent light around his brother's frame making him squint and protect his eyes. "What is it Sam?"

"It's Cas. He's been sick." The tall Winchester glanced back towards the bathroom where the light was coming from.

Dean strode past him, cross. "Why didn't you wake me up!" He growled at the angel sitting slightly shaking in front of the toilet bowl.

"There was no need, Sam was already assisting me," Castiel nodded his acknowledgments in the tall man's direction.

"What happened!" Dean demanded from his brother now.

"You would obviously try to shake someone out of a nightmare if they look like they're having one," Sam asserted, "and he snapped out of it pretty quickly, then ran in here to throw up."

"It's ok Cas," Dean wasn't sure who he was placating, himself or his friend, "it happens to the best of us after a real bad one." The Winchesters were experts at it, their dad included, he would know. "Do you think you're done here?"

"I don't think there's anything else to expel," Castiel speculated, though not looking completely sure.

"Do you still feel sick?" Dean probed.

"Not nearly as bad as before," the angel was taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down with a hand on his stomach.

"Have we got Gaviscone?" Dean inquired.

Sam nodded and disappeared swiftly to dig in his rucksack while Dean gently manoeuvred Castiel back towards the bed. "Tell me about the nightmare Cas. Is it a memory?"

"I don't know Dean."

"Does it feel too confusing to figure out whether all of it is an actual memory of purgatory or is your mind playing tricks on you?" The hunter sympathised.

"I don't know Dean," Cas shook his head defeated, "I don't remember".

Dean frowned. It was hard to see the angel appear so whitewashed and weary, "look man, I'm the last person who volunteers to share, but sometimes it helps to talk about it.

"I said I don't remember." Castiel raised his voice, looking sharply at his friend.

The older Winchester sighed, rubbing his thighs as he arrived to a decision, "okay, you don't want to talk about it, I get it."

Castiel shook his head, "I don't know if I would want to talk about it if I remembered it, but I in actual fact don't remember it. I know it's unpleasant, I know that it makes me uneasy to the extent of physical sensations, but I do not know what I dream about," the angel raised analytical eyes at the hunters, seemingly calmed.

"It is possible he represses memories subconsciously. I mean, if we would dwell on every memory and every dream we had, we would've gone crazy by now," Sam reasoned.

"Well, in that case, I want you to show me what happens when you go to sleep," Dean insisted, "you can enter my dreams, I'm quite sure you would be able to make me enter yours."

Castiel gave a small, quizzical headshake, "I'm not sure what a feat like that would achieve."

"Cas, I left you alone in purgatory once, I'm not about to repeat that!" Dean argued unwaveringly, "mojo my dreamland to yours or whatever it is you need to do and we can fight together!"

"I do not wish to give you nightmares," the angel tried to reason, "furthermore, I cannot predict what will happen in there."

"They are just dreams, right? Nothing can happen to me. If anything, helping this way could make me feel better for leaving you," Dean placed an encouraging hand on Castiel's shoulder, "not as if you will need to sleep or dream every night after you regain your strength."

"I could still wake both of you up if I see you struggle," Sam offered helpfully.

"See? Sam will wake me up," Dean placated, "now let's get your medication and off to sleep with us," the hunter directed, not letting Castiel argue further.

Tbc


	4. Together

Chapter 4: Wool Gathering

Muscles tensed in preparation for a very likely fight, Dean only let his eyelids relax so he could go to sleep, just like he had been very used to doing and practiced in purgatory. But when he opened his eyes in the reality Castiel's unconscious state took him, it was nothing like afterlife dimension they had been trapped in earlier that year. It was a bright room that resembled both an office and a dentist's surgery, with Castiel strapped into the chair so drills could enter his eyes and forehead at the hands of a suited woman, continuously repeating to Castiel how he wasn't supposed to remember any of this, but follow the orders of the angel that was his superior, her. Dean's presence was unexpected and therefore unnoticed, with him standing at the other side of the desk the woman had her back to. Although the setting was rather surprising, Castiel was getting tortured here which could only elicit one kind of response from the hunter and that was to free his friend first, ask questions later. As the aggressor appeared to be an angel, he used the surprise effect to dislodge the blade from the woman's belt and plunge it deep till the hilt into the angel's back, dream or not.

Tormentor incapacitated and out the way, Dean frowned at the drill still sticking out from Castiel's forehead, but there was no choice in the matter other than yanking it out as soon as possible. "Cas, you ok?" The human discarded the offending tool and patted the angel's cheek, hoping for a reaction. "Is this thing a memory or a dream?"

"Dean?" Castiel grabbed for the human's shirt firmly, "what are you doing here?"

"I was going to join you in your nightmare, remember?" Dean took to freeing Castiel from his straps.

The trenchcoated jumped up so quickly the momentum made him knock into Dean, but as the angel was too lightheaded and swaying to stay on his two legs, the hunter's arms that shot out to balance them both remained around his frame. "Dean, we must leave immediately," Castiel claimed.

"Well, as nightmares go, this isn't so bad now that I'm here," Dean encouraged, "not to mention I'm not exactly sure how we could get Sam to wake us up. We would obviously not look too distressed for that at the moment. Mind you Cas, dreaming angels up as dicks, I'm glad we agree on that."

"That is precisely why we must leave. Someone might come in," Castiel held his head, clearly still in pain.

"It's just a dream Cas, you're ok, you hear me?" Dean tried to pull the angel's hands away from his face.

"No Dean, this is no dream, no nightmare. This is heaven and this is actually happening and I think..I think I have been here in this position before, many times. But this time our bodies are sleeping in the motel, yet my grace is here and your soul is here too as you insisted we should be bound together while I'm unconscious. And I believe you have just killed the general of our forth legion, Naomi. She pulled me out of purgatory for this, to make me an obedient soldier again. We shall leave as soon as I'm strong enough to transport us both."

"What are you saying? That bitch, you're sure she was real?"

"This is really heaven, I can feel it," Castiel fisted Dean's shirt tight and the next moment the human felt somebody shaking him awake by the shoulders. He opened his eyes to find himself looking at a bewildered Sam. "What on earth had happened man?" His brother raved, "you were barely asleep for five minutes and then you suddenly disappeared out of your bed and onto Cas', which could've been all cute and cuddly if at the same time Cas didn't throw up on himself so I thought it would be most sensible to wake you both up, but Cas isn't responding!"

Dean instinctually tried to push himself away from the smelly mess that was Castiel, but then his protective streak took over and he leaned back to grab hold of his angel, "help me put him into recovery so he doesn't choke!"

"Choke? But he's an angel, Dean," Sam commented, doing as he was asked by his brother all the same, "what happened?" He flinched, not really wanting to know if purgatory was indeed that bad that it made the angel gag repeatedly.

"As far as I can understand from what Cas was saying, we weren't in a dream. Some headquarters bitch had direct hold on his brain from the moment he was upside. We had to make a hasty exit and he wasn't up for it. That's why he's green around the gills I think," Dean explained, concerned eyes still watching the angel.

"Are you sure he's back with us then? If he's still unconscious?" Sam worried too.

"Yes, yes, I killed the nasty bitch," Dean assured him, but wished Cas would wake up and quash his apprehensions, "he should be okay now Sammy."

"For good?" Sam tried to make sure.

"Yes, thank you, I should be," Castiel himself answered, sitting up stiffly as he noticed the state of his shirt. The next moment all the mess was gone.

"Hey, hey, you shouldn't waste precious mojo on dry cleaning," Dean admonished.

"But that's the situation Dean, that I'm perfectly fine," Castiel marvelled himself, "my head is clear, my strength is returning, I feel wholly in control. I may be very close to full power. And while I might need some time and space to think about what Naomi wanted from me, the hold I discovered she had on me is completely gone. I'm here, Dean and at your service."

Dean pulled back, gulping, noting the almost snicker on his brother's face. "Okay, okay, I should get back to my bed and you should maybe get your clothes back on," he suggested forcefully, loping from the awkward moment, "if you're sure there are no more angel emergencies, I should like to get some proper dreams."

"Of course Dean, I'll just watch some television without the sound on," Castiel offered to stay out the way.

"He's at your service," Sam whispered, grinning, mock punching his brother on the shoulder as he passed him on his way to the kitchenette.

The End.


End file.
